Heaven Is Above All Yet;

The Commonwealth Of Athens Is Become A Forest Of Beasts.

I Had Rather Chop This Hand Off At A Blow, And With The Other Fling It At Thy Face.

I Hourly Learn A Doctrine Of Obedience.

Words Are Grown So False, I Am Loath To Prove Reason With Them.

All Things That We Ordained Festival Turn From Their Office To Black Funeral-- Our Instruments To Melancholy Bells, Our Wedding Cheer To A Sad Burial Feast; Our Solemn Hymns To Sullen Dirges Change; Our Bridal Flowers Serve For A Buried Corse; And All Things Change Them To The Contrary.